


Best Laid Plans

by flaming_muse



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M, Wedding Night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 13:02:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3489242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt and Blaine’s wedding night doesn’t go exactly as planned.</p>
<p>set within 6x08 (“A Wedding”), with absolutely no spoilers beyond</p>
            </blockquote>





	Best Laid Plans

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is all Liz’s fault.
> 
> First she got to talking with me about how totally exhausting weddings are. Then she told me how much she wanted to read a fic about Kurt and Blaine trying to have sex on their wedding night and then failing because of said exhaustion. Then I wrote it for her, because she deserves nice things and I need to find ways to thank her for being awesome, and she made me kill all of my darlings to make it a better fic.
> 
> (Seriously, there was some Kurt-Brittany in the first draft that I LOVE, but it needed to go. Oh well.)
> 
> Anyway. I don't think it's quite what she wanted, but it's still all her fault. Send complaints to her.
> 
> (It’s also her fault this isn’t called “The Best Laid Plans (For Getting Laid),” but that’s probably a good thing.)
> 
> Fluffy, wedding-related fail!sex.

The sound of forks chiming against wine glasses makes Kurt look up from his dinner to find Puck, of all people, leading the cheer from his table across the barn.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” Sugar’s voice rises above the rest of the wedding guests’ chanting. Rachel’s smile is wide as she claps her encouragement.

From the brides’ table across from Kurt and Blaine, Santana shakes her head with a laugh and crosses her arms over her chest. “You know the rules!” she calls back.

After a moment’s consultation with his friends at his table, Puck stands up and sings, “I just called to say I love you. I just called to say how much I care. I just called to say I love you.” He puts his hand on his chest and sways with feeling. “And I mean it from the bottom of my heart.”

“I’m not sure requiring that requests to kiss come with a song about love actually cuts down on the number of them for this crowd,” Kurt says to Blaine, laughing. “Glee club, remember?”

Blaine turns in his seat and grins at him. “Who wants fewer reasons to kiss?” he asks.

Kurt bites back his smile and doesn’t try to avoid it as Blaine leans in for a kiss. Blaine’s lips are soft and salty-sweet from the sauce on his dinner, and they open a little to Kurt’s, lingering longer than they did the last time they were prompted to kiss by the wedding guests.

Kurt feels his breath catch and his cheeks flush warm as the kiss goes on. It’s not too long. It’s not too deep. It’s not at all inappropriate. But it’s something extra. Not quite simple. Not quite innocent.

It tugs at something deep in his body, something eager and waiting, something touched by the events of the day and aching to break free.

Blaine’s eyes are dark as he pulls back, his mouth still parted, and they stay locked on Kurt’s for a few seconds more before he ducks his head and turns to his dinner once more.

As Kurt picks up his silverware again, he finds himself smiling around the press of desire rising up in him.

It’s not time yet, but he’s looking forward to getting Blaine alone and kissing him properly.

*

Kurt lets Santana cut in and steal Brittany from his arms and is very happy to turn to find Blaine waiting beside him. With a smile, he falls easily into step with his husband.

“Just the man I was looking for,” he says, glad to have Blaine near instead of watching him from across the room as he’s been doing for much of the night. It’s been a wonderful celebration, but it’s hardly left them much time just for each other.

They’ve sat together and sung together, but it’s still odd how much of their wedding reception has been spent not at each other’s sides.

The song is slow, and Blaine holds him close, his hands gentle and sure on him. Kurt sighs against his cheek and closes his eyes for a moment, forgetting about the crowd and focusing on his husband. Dancing with Blaine always feels so simple and right, and tonight with all that’s happened between them it’s even easier to melt into his arms, draw in the scent of his cologne and salty skin, and get a little lost in the music and the man who promised to love him forever.

“Having a good time?” he asks, his voice dreamy and a little sleepy even to his own ears. He sighs out as Blaine’s hands slip up his back, protective and gentle.

“The best,” Blaine says, and he sounds happy enough. “It’s a fantastic party. Although I’ve missed dancing with you.”

“It’s hard when everybody wants a turn with the grooms,” Kurt agrees. He hopes Blaine is paying attention to the dancers around them, because he can’t seem to open his eyes. He just wants to drift in this moment, their bodies in perfect rhythm.

“Mmm.” Blaine tips his head against Kurt’s. “I’m glad Santana wanted to dance with Brit again. I love this song. I love _you_.”

“I love you, too,” Kurt tells him, his heart aching with it. Blaine feels so solid and perfect in his arms, temptingly strong and masculine beneath his well-cut tuxedo. He doesn’t want to have to move away from him. He doesn’t want to have to let him go.

He will, of course. The song will end, and they’ll go back to enjoying the party and all of the guests.

But not yet. He has a few more minutes to enjoy holding him and being held up by him.

Kurt tucks his cheek against Blaine’s, curls his hands in Blaine’s suit, feels with a deep flare of approval Blaine’s muscles moving beneath the fabric, and holds on.

*

Kurt leans a little into Blaine’s shoulder as they stand by the doors of the barn and take in the wedding reception still going strong well into the night.

Kurt watches his dad do some dance move with Tina that’s probably supposed to be a cousin to the swim but mostly seems to involve waving his arms around roughly in time with the music. He finds himself smiling at it.

He’s glad everyone is having so much fun. This has been a surprisingly amazing day, and he wants everyone else to remember it as warmly as he will.

“It’s a beautiful night,” Blaine says, his face full of utterly irresistible happiness.

“Absolutely perfect,” Kurt says softly, impossibly fond of this man he loves, this man he married.

He has always loved Blaine, but now it’s an even sharper sort of appreciation. Blaine is _special_ , and even when their differences mean they have to work harder Kurt is drawn to him for all that makes him himself.

And he married him today.

The joy inside of him burns hot, desperate to be expressed. He _loves_ Blaine. He wants to show him. He doesn’t want to hold any of himself back. That’s the whole point of being married, after all. No more holding back.

Kurt presses his mouth flat instead of leaning in to kiss him. He can’t just pull him to the side somewhere and make out with him in the middle of the reception. Besides, they have a hotel room waiting for them. He’d much rather show him how much he loves him there.

Blaine’s eyes are going questioning as they search his face. “Kurt?” he asks, and Kurt knows he’s feeling at least some of the same way.

“We should go to the hotel soon,” Kurt tells him, and Blaine nods immediately.

“I promised my mother one more dance,” Blaine says in apology.

Kurt strokes his hand down Blaine’s arm, teasing himself with the feel of him, and then lets him go. “Then you’d better go find her.”

Blaine’s grin is bright, and he leans up for a kiss, quick but firm and lush, full of the promise of more. “Definitely. It’s time to go.”

Kurt watches Blaine walk away, watches the carefree bounce in his step and trim lines of his body, and smiles to himself, happy and wistful at the same time.

He feels deep into his bones how fortunate he is to have him.

With a sigh, Kurt turns away from his husband and heads toward Rachel for one last dance with his best friend before the night is over.

Soon. He and Blaine will leave soon.

*

Blaine’s hand on Kurt’s is almost painfully tight as they walk to the car together, the sounds of the party and the riotous send-off they’d just had fading behind them with each step.

They walk in silence besides the crunch of their feet on the gravel.

There’s so much inside of Kurt, but he can’t put it in words. He’s so incandescently happy, and yet this big step they took today hardly feels like something new at all. They’re married, but they’re just them. They’ve always wanted to be together forever. Maybe it was inevitable they’d get to this point, no matter the path they had to walk to reach it.

They part at the trunk of the car, Kurt hanging up his jacket in its garment bag from the hook in Blaine’s back seat before taking his place in the front. He rubs at his eyes as he sits. The silence is so welcome it makes his ears ring.

Blaine has slid the keys into the ignition but hasn’t put his seatbelt on, and there’s something grave and contemplative about his face.

Kurt’s smile fades as he shuts his door. “Are you - “ he begins to ask, and then Blaine’s surging over the console and kissing him, deep, open-mouthed, all tongue and breath and hands close on Kurt’s face.

Kurt grabs Blaine’s shoulders and kisses him back, liquid fire spiraling through him and burning white-hot. Need is sharp in his gut, need and joy and a frantic desire to prove everything he promised to Blaine earlier in the day. There are too many teeth in the kiss, hands holding too tight, everything feverish and fast, and Kurt still can’t get enough. He wants to pour every bit of himself into loving Blaine.

“God. Kurt,” Blaine gasps, sucking a desperate, dizzying kiss against Kurt’s throat. “I need - “

“I know,” Kurt says. “I know. I can’t even tell you everything I want to do to you right now.”

“Everything.” Blaine does something with his tongue that makes Kurt’s eyes roll back. “Kurt - “

Kurt shudders and clutches at him, pulling him closer. He can’t get enough air. He can’t get enough of _Blaine_. “I don’t care what people say; married sex isn’t going to be boring at _all_.”

Blaine groans against his throat, pulling at Kurt’s tie to loosen it as Kurt pushes at Blaine’s jacket to try to get to his body beneath. Kurt dips his head to find Blaine’s mouth again, kissing him so hard his jaw aches with it.

Oh, god, why aren’t they naked? Why is this taking so long? Why didn’t they leave hours ago?

The feel of fabric slipping free at his neck is just enough to distract Kurt from the red-hot burn of his feelings, and as he opens his eyes he remembers where they are... and where they aren’t.

As Blaine starts to fumble at the collar of Kurt’s shirt, Kurt makes himself lift his hands to cup Blaine’s and pull them away from the buttons. It’s an agony of denial, but he knows it’s right.

Blaine blinks at him, dark-eyed and confused, his chest heaving as he gasps for air.

“We should go to the hotel,” Kurt tells him as steadily as he can. He can’t quite catch his breath, either. “Or else we’re going to end up in the back seat of a car at yet another wedding.” He has happy memories of having sex with Blaine in the back of cars, but - “It feels a little tacky when the wedding is ours.”

There’s a split-second where Blaine looks tempted - which Kurt fully understands, because he doesn’t want to wait any more - but he nods and pulls his hands back to his own lap. “Okay,” he says, shuddering in a deep breath. He nods again and rubs his face with a shaking hand. “You’re right. Okay.” With a self-conscious laugh, he pulls his seatbelt on and then starts up the car.

Kurt can’t help but love seeing Blaine so flustered and undone. He loves that he can do that to him. He loves that Blaine can undo him right back, the only person he’s ever wanted to take him apart and see everything that he usually keeps tight inside.

Kurt loves that he got to _marry_ him and will get to keep doing both forever.

As they pull out of the parking lot, Blaine relaxes a little more, his breath coming out in a gust and one hand dropping to the gear shift between them.

With a smile, Kurt puts his hand over it, threading their fingers together. He feels compelled to touch him even if only that little bit, and Blaine holds on tight, clearly not as calm as he looks.

Kurt brings their hands over to his thigh and faces forward, watching the road go by. They just have to get to their hotel.

*

Stopped at a red light, Blaine says, almost conversationally except his voice sounds tight in his throat, “I’m so glad we got the room with the big bed. There are so many things I want to do with you in it. I’m glad we’ll have plenty of space.”

Kurt blinks himself back to the present, half-dazed by the headlights of the cars that are streaming past in front of them. “I don’t even require a bed at this point,” he admits with a dry laugh. He’d like a bed, but he honestly doesn’t care, as long as they’re alone together and free to touch each other at last.

“Kurt,” Blaine breathes, glancing over at him, and Kurt offers him an unapologetic shrug. It’s true, after all.

Blaine’s eyes are wide and glassy as he stares back at the intersection. The car jerks forward too fast when the light changes.

*

“I just - I want - “ Blaine gasps against Kurt’s mouth as he presses Kurt against their hotel room door as it closes behind them. He threads his hands in Kurt’s hair, kissing him hard and fast, his body crowding Kurt against the hard wooden panel.

“I know,” Kurt tells him, flinging his arms around Blaine’s neck and kissing him back with everything he has. Arousal surges through him, white-hot and urgent.

“I love you.” Blaine tugs at Kurt’s hair, tipping his head to a better angle and diving back into his mouth. “God, Kurt, I love you, and I want - “

“I know,” Kurt says again, and he _does_ , and he just wants to _enjoy it_. He pushes Blaine’s jacket off of his shoulders and pulls at the back of his shirt, wanting it out of his way.

There’s the sudden sound of rain around them, or perhaps the sound of beads falling to the floor. He ignores it until he feels something small and hard bounce off his nose.

“What - “ Kurt pulls back to see a handful of seeds and small white flakes on his shoulders and the carpet around them.

Blaine looks down, then back up at him. He moves his fingers gently in Kurt’s hair, and there’s a cascade of more seeds and sugar confetti around him. “They really got you with the confetti when we left,” he says with a chuckle.

Kurt puts a hand up to his hair and feels the bird seed stuck in it, held in place by the product keeping his coif swept up. For once he’s jealous of how impervious to outside interference Blaine’s hair is. “I appreciate them not wanting to hurt birds with uncooked rice, but it would have to be less sticky than this.” He can feel some of the little pellets clinging to his hair.

“That’s the sugar confetti. Brittany wanted something white. It melts.” Blaine smiles up at Kurt’s hair and dislodges a few more seeds with careful fingers.

Kurt drops his hands with a sigh.

Now that he knows it’s all in there he isn’t going to be able to stop thinking about it. He doesn’t want it in his hair. He doesn’t want it in the bed. He doesn’t want it anywhere. “I think there’s some down my back,” he says, squirming against the door. It could be in his imagination, but he has a very vivid one, so that the sticky itching could be a figment of it is hardly a consolation.

Blaine leans up on his toes to kiss him, softer but still long and deep enough that it leaves Kurt breathless. “Go take a shower,” he says. “Do you want me to order some champagne from room service?”

Kurt trails his fingers down Blaine’s arm and is tempted to invite him to join him, only the idea of Blaine de-seeding his hair makes him feel more like an ape with fleas than is romantic. “No,” he says. “I don’t want anyone to interrupt us.”

Blaine’s eyes go hot with anticipation. “Okay,” he says in a low rasp, and it takes everything Kurt has not to tumble him to the floor right then and there.

But he really is sticky and sweaty. It’s just a quick shower. He can wait.

*

In the steamy shower stall, Kurt thoroughly washes out his hair, soaps up his body, and then stands numbly under the powerful spray. The heat is soothing on muscles and joints tired and sore from so many hours of wedding preparation and then celebration, and the hiss of the water pushes out the noisy clatter of his spinning thoughts and countless faces known and unknown he’s encountered today.

He got married today. He got married to the love of his life. It hadn’t been planned, but it had still happened, and memories of smiles and dances and family and friends swirl in front of his eyes and away with the water pouring over him, leaving him quietly elated and peaceful.

He thinks of Blaine’s smile during their vows, shining with joy and sure of him once more. He wants to see that smile every day for the rest of his life.

He gets to.

There’s nothing to stop them. There’s just their long lives spread out in front of them, careers and family and home and lazy Sundays and opening nights and surprise bouquets of flowers and cups of coffee and soft hazel eyes to wake up to in the morning and -

Kurt jerks his head up with a gasp and blinks water out of his eyes in a daze. He shuts off the spray with a slap of his hand.

He can’t believe he just halfway drifted off in the shower.

It’s his wedding night, and his husband is in the next room. He’s completely awake. Of course he is.

Kurt steps out of the shower stall, swaying a little dizzily, and reaches for a towel. Blaine’s waiting for him. Of course he’s awake.

*

Kurt opens the bathroom door to find Blaine sitting slumped forward on the edge of the turned-down bed. His feet are bare, but he’s still in his tuxedo pants and shirt, which is fine with him. He’s happy enough to take them off of him.

“I would have packed nicer pajamas if I’d known this was going to be our wedding night,” Kurt says, leaning artfully against the doorframe. He knows the soft, clinging loungewear shows him off well, anyway.

Blaine’s eyes warm, and he sits up straight as he looks up at him. “If it’s up to me, I’d say you don’t need pajamas at all.”

Kurt grins and stalks toward him in a slow stroll, feeling his blood start to heat in his veins. “Well, I do have to make you work a little.”

Setting his hands on Kurt’s waist as Kurt comes to stand in front of him, Blaine tips his head up into Kurt’s soft kiss, but before Kurt can push him back on the bed, Blaine pulls away and says, “I just need a minute. I’d like to shower, too. And then I promise I will be very happy to do all the work of taking off your pajamas.”

It’s a little disappointing to have to stop again, but Kurt can hardly deny him a shower. He makes himself take a step to the side, and he’s pleased enough that when Blaine stands, too, he chases after another kiss from him, then another.

“I’ll be quick,” Blaine promises, his hands tight in Kurt’s shirt. “I just want to get clean.”

“Okay,” Kurt says and smiles at him.

Blaine presses another soft kiss to Kurt’s mouth and then grabs a few things from his bag and disappears into the bathroom.

Kurt stands there for a moment, staring at the room without any idea what to do in it. He doesn’t want to watch television. The bed’s already ready for them. Blaine’s set out his little kit on his nightstand, the brown leather travel bag that contains lube and condoms.

Kurt supposes he could use the time to stretch himself open and save them the time later, but he doesn’t know if Blaine would rather bottom tonight. There’s a definite appeal to thinking about Blaine spread out under him, open to him in every way, and he adjusts himself in his soft sleep pants as his body shows its approval to that idea. He loves the way Blaine just takes him, lets Kurt take over, so vocally wants the pleasure Kurt can give him. He loves the desperate way Blaine lets himself want him.

But then again, letting Blaine deep inside _him_ also sounds really good. He’s been shaken apart so much today already that it seems almost fitting to let himself go in bed, too. Bottoming can be overwhelming for him when he wants to hold himself together, but today that sounds delicious, letting himself be totally swept up in Blaine’s body and his feelings and all they are to each other. He wants to let go for Blaine. He wants to be completely surrounded by Blaine, completely filled by him. He wants to give Blaine every part of himself.

Still, if they do that he’d hate to miss out on the careful way Blaine likes to open him up, and lube makes rimming messy, and...

Kurt strips off his sleep shirt, suddenly warm, and sets it aside. He sinks down on the edge of the bed and listens to the shower rush into life in the other room.

He’ll just let things happen as they happen. They can decide together.

*

Kurt sucks in a deep breath at the sound of the shower shutting off, and he sits up sharply from where he’d been leaning sideways against the pillows. His eyes couldn’t have been closed for long. He’s just gathering his energy, that’s all.

Besides, the bed is _very_ comfortable.

He arranges himself on the covers in what he knows is a tempting position, his back half to the bathroom door so that he’ll be able to look coyly over his shoulder. He knows Blaine won’t really need any extra encouragement to join him in bed, but, well... he likes turning him on. He likes the way Blaine’s eyes flare and his breath comes quick just catching sight of him.

The door opens suddenly, and Kurt scrambles to compose his face into something warm and tempting. “Well, hello,” he says to his husband in a low purr.

“Sorry, I forgot my toothbrush,” Blaine says, scurrying toward his overnight bag dressed only in a towel with his hair a curly mess on top of his head. He flushes when he stands up after he digs out his toiletry kit and takes in the sight of Kurt on the bed. “Oh. Um. Sorry. I just need a few...” He holds up the kit in illustration.

“Okay,” Kurt says with a sigh, relaxing the muscles he was holding tense for Blaine’s appreciation. He knows how Blaine feels about his nightly routine.

Blaine gives him an apologetic smile. “I’ll just be a minute.” He retreats to the bathroom, his eyes on Kurt until he shuts the door. A moment later he pokes his head out again. “Hold that thought,” he insists.

*

After a couple of minutes of listening to Blaine putter, Kurt plumps the pillows against the headboard and sits back against them, his legs stretched out on top of the turned-back covers. He knows Blaine will fuss over his hair for a few minutes, and then he’ll start his thorough brushing and flossing regimen. Kurt might as well wait without twisting his back into a weird position. He’s surprisingly sore from so much standing today. His legs ache, his lower back, even his knees.

It’s so nice to be able to relax finally after such a busy day. And what a perfect day it was.

He breathes out slowly and sinks into the pillows, happily worn out and content.

So very, very content.

*

Kurt opens his eyes again when Blaine opens the door, walking out in a pair of low-slung, worn pajama pants. Kurt’s mouth waters at the trail of fine hair beneath Blaine’s navel, and he can feel his flush of arousal travel down his neck and onto his chest.

Blaine deposits his neat pile of clothes on top of his bag and watches Kurt with smouldering eyes as he circles the bed. “Shall I turn off some of the lights?” he asks.

Kurt turns onto his side and watches his husband flick off the main light and the one on his side of the bed, leaving only the little lamp beside Kurt to illuminate the room in a soft, intimate glow. It mostly only reaches the bed, but that’s all that matters. The darkness around them is a friendly one, shutting the rest of the world out.

“This is nice,” Blaine says as he surveys the room.

“Very cozy,” Kurt agrees.

Blaine slips into his side of the mattress, and Kurt pulls up the covers over himself so that they can meet beneath them on their sides, their heads sharing the same pillow. Blaine cups Kurt’s cheek, and his eyes are liquid with happiness as he slides in close enough to kiss him.

The kiss is long and slow, deep from the start but almost leisurely in its thoroughness. They have all the time in the world now. They have all night, all their lives. The fire from in the car and at the door is banked, ready to spring back to life but only glowing for the moment.

“I love you so much, Kurt,” Blaine tells him, and Kurt runs his hand down Blaine’s bare side to his waist and murmurs his own wordless affirmation against his mouth.

Blaine cups his jaw, caresses his throat and shoulder, and palms down his pecs and abdomen. His touch is firm but reverent, full of tenderness. “I love touching you.”

Kurt breathes in sharply, not quite a yawn, and slips his hand down the back of Blaine’s pajamas to curve over his ass. “Mmm,” he agrees, squeezing the yielding muscle there. Kurt loves every inch of him, loves getting to touch him again, loves being near and sharing his breath and his warmth. He feels like a dream come true, like coming home.

Blaine hums against his mouth, their kisses growing languid and decadent as they pet each other’s body in drawn-out, appreciative strokes. The caresses make Kurt’s body warm and melt. The kisses make his toes curl. The love between them makes him feel like he’s floating.

“What do you - “ Blaine breaks off, stifling a yawn of his own against Kurt’s lips. “Sorry. I want to make you feel good. What do you want tonight?”

“You,” Kurt tells him, because the hazy list of options from Blaine’s mouth sucking him down to Blaine’s cock pushing into him to everything in between is too much to think about. All of it sounds good. He just can’t really focus enough to decide. Everything is soft and hazy, this bed and Blaine’s body and the happy beat of his own heart. “What do you want to do?”

“Everything,” Blaine says, kissing gently at Kurt’s jaw. “You’re my husband. I want to do everything with you.”

The word husband lodges in Kurt’s chest and makes his smile pour out of him. “We _will_ do everything as husbands,” he promises. “I can’t wait.”

Blaine’s smile is almost brittle in its brightness. “I can’t, either.” He pulls Kurt close, enfolding him in a tight hug, and Kurt curls his arms around him and settles onto his back so that Blaine can tuck his face against Kurt’s throat as he clings to him. “Kurt, we’re married,” Blaine whispers, his voice cracking.

“I know.” Kurt strokes his hand down Blaine’s back with gratitude. It feels so good to be close to him. It means so much to have reached this point, but it feels so easy, so comfortable, so simple. The two of them together is so perfectly simple.

“I’m so happy to be married to you.” Blaine’s soft sigh sounds more relieved than anything, filled not with arousal but appreciation.

“I’m happy, too,” Kurt murmurs his agreement and drifts in his husband’s embrace, letting himself be filled with the joy of the moment. The world around them is quiet, the bed is a cloud of high-thread-count sheets, and their fingers holding each other now bear rings that are visible proof of their promises to each other.

They’ve had such a monumental, life-changing day. He’s happy to have a little time to take it in.

Sex can wait for a few minutes. This is important, too. Being together at last is important.

*

A little while later, Blaine stirs, his hand skimming down Kurt’s side and bringing Kurt swimming back up to the surface again. Blaine kisses Kurt’s chest, and his hand comes to rest on Kurt’s belly just above the waistband of his pants.

“Sorry. I’m just... I guess I got a little lost thinking about you,” Blaine says.

Kurt blinks his eyes open and says, “Tell me.” He tries to make his body respond to his commands, because they are so doing this. They got married today. It’s their wedding night. They are totally having sex right now.

“I was thinking about what you look like. What you taste like.”

Kurt makes a little noise of encouragement and caresses Blaine’s strong back.

“I want to taste you,” Blaine says, but he doesn’t raise his head. “Every inch of you.”

Kurt slips his fingertips down to the rise of Blaine’s ass, all he can reach of it in this position. His heart skips a quick beat in interest. “I want to touch you everywhere.”

“Mmm,” Blaine says happily, rubbing his cheek against Kurt’s chest. He dips his hand a little lower, cupping Kurt’s hip beneath his pajamas. “Yes.”

“And I want you to touch me, too,” Kurt murmurs, his eyes drooping shut again. The touch feels soothing and wonderful, proprietary and intimate and caring. Only Blaine gets to touch him like that. “I love you. I want to feel you deep inside me.”

“Yeah,” Blaine says hazily, curling a little closer around him, his half-erect cock snugging up against Kurt’s thigh. He shuffles a few inches up Kurt’s body, nosing up Kurt’s chin and finding his lips with his own in a loose, breathy kiss. His eyes are hazy as he looks right into Kurt’s own. “I want to blow you and then fuck you. And then you have to fuck me, too.”

Kurt nods his dry-mouthed agreement. He has no problems at all with that suggestion, even if it seems like an awful lot of work just at the moment. “Definitely. Your ass is a thing of beauty.”

Blaine’s laugh is soft and vague around a deep, jaw-cracking yawn he muffles against his own arm. He settles his head on Kurt’s shoulder, and his hands slips lower on Kurt’s belly, closer to his cock but not touching it. He drops a soft kiss on Kurt’s throat, making him shiver. “And then maybe another shower.”

“Mmm. Is it gross to have sex in a hotel shower?” Kurt wonders, trailing his fingertips along Blaine’s spine. That shower had been a delight, all marble and chrome and hot water, and there had been more than enough room for two.

He’d love to have a shower like that in a future apartment, one where they’ll have huge windows and lots of light and so much counter space he won’t run out even on Thanksgiving. He looks forward to it. He can feel the granite of that counter under his hands, smooth and cool, gleaming in the warm summer light. Maybe he can have a marble inset area for rolling out dough. Maybe there will be a park view, too, if they’re successful enough...

“I think that’s what hotel showers are made for,” Blaine replies, pulling Kurt back toward the present. “Or else why would there be a ledge to sit on in there?”

Kurt had noticed that ledge. He likes the idea of one. They could have a combination wet/steam shower in their apartment, good for luxurious showers and soothing sore muscles after long days at the theater. And it would definitely be perfect for having sex in.

Like the one in the bathroom here. He can imagine how Blaine’s bare, golden body would look spread out against the cool stone, and he thinks they absolutely need to take advantage of it.

Married sex is definitely not going to be boring.

Blaine’s breath is coming in slow puffs against his skin when Kurt pulls himself out of his dreamy contemplations enough to reply, “You have a point.”

“I can’t wait,” Blaine says and presses a clumsy kiss to his chest. “We have to try it.”

“We’ll try everything,” Kurt promises.

Blaine hums out in pleasure.

*

Inhaling deeply, Blaine nudges the tip of his nose against Kurt’s throat and rubs his palm over Kurt’s bare hip. “‘m so happy to be with you. You feel so good.”

“So good,” Kurt echoes, his fingers catching in the waistband of Blaine’s pajama pants as his hand falls toward the mattress.

*

“Kurt, are you falling asleep?” Blaine asks in a thick, raspy voice.

“No,” Kurt makes himself say, even if he can’t quite manage to open his eyes. His body is so _heavy_ , and with Blaine beside him all their combined warmth is dragging him down into the bedding. “We’re about to have intense and amazing married sex. Lots of it.” He caresses the upper swell of Blaine’s perfect ass. There’s so much he wants to do to it.

“It’s going to be incredible,” Blaine agrees. His thumb caresses the knob of Kurt’s hip in a delicate tease.

“Of course it is. It’s our wedding night. We’re going to make history.” Kurt tries to keep himself in the moment, thinking about Blaine’s welcoming body close against his, but between the soft mattress, his cuddling husband, and the mental and physical exhaustion of the day, it’s a struggle he just can’t manage.

He wants to strip Blaine bare and luxuriate in every inch of him. He does. He wants to enjoy him, have him, see him needy and gasping and eager and dripping with water and...

He’s already caught in a half-dream about a shower as big as the bed they’re in when Blaine happily says, “History.” And then he promptly starts snoring, his hand still tucked inside Kurt’s pants and his mouth open and relaxed against Kurt’s throat.

“So much sex,” Kurt murmurs to himself before joining his husband in their first night’s sleep together as married men.

**Author's Note:**

> I am spoiler-free to the very end! Please don't spoil me!


End file.
